Don't Drink The Kool-Aid

I'm gonna be honest with all you fans. I've been a little angry lately. Fuck, I guess sensitive too. That's right. Your fearless leader, J-Wunderful, is showing his "human" side. Have I been hating? You know what...I sure have. Why? Good question. The answer to this is that I found myself consumed in the world of negativity. Fucked up shit, right? See, I'm usually a guy who doesn't give a fuck. I'm laid back. Chill. Easy going. Cool as the other side of the goddamn pillow. I'm that guy who loves everyone. I'll accept you if you accept me. I won't give two shits about you if well, if you don't give two shits about me. For reals.

I drank the Kool-Aid folks. I drank that nasty ass Kool-Aid of hate. Of anger. Of "I'm gonna let everything surrounding me bug the shit out of me". That's not me. But you know what? That's the fucking life we live in. Real talk.

I have a fan page with over 126,000 fans. I started that shit back in August 2011. I have a blog with over 2.7 million hits. I started that back in November 2010. Do you know what my biggest fear was? Haters. Not gonna lie...the haters scared me. Scared the shit out of me to be honest. Not because I felt it was gonna put me in this state of goddamn depression but, because I was that guy who loved EVERYONE and was accepted by EVERYBODY. Then I realized, life is a fucking bitch and not everyone is gonna like you, what the fuck you say, how you say it, why you say it, why you do it and blah, blah fucking blah. I cared too much. I was consumed on what others thought rather than what I thought. Hence, hating. Me being one of them...as of late.

I'm a blogger. A writer. It's kind of ironic since I hated fucking English, don't read books and never could write for shit (I probably still can't). But look at what the fuck happened?! I started a blog and fan page...then shit blew the fuck up. BOOM! The only reason why it did was because one thing - I DIDN'T CARE. I did what I felt was right without worrying what other people thought. Mainly, what those negative mother fuckers thought. I wrote the shit I wrote, posted the shit I posted because it made sense. Shit, it MAKES sense. So much sense that it has gotten me to where I am today. Successful in the blogosphere of comedy and entertainment and my life story. My shit puts more smiles on peoples faces around the world than angry and mad ones.

But I drank the Kool-Aid.

As I was sipping on some scotch tonight it hit me - "What the fuck are you doing, Wundercunt? You of all people should know that haters gonna hate. So why join the movement? Why stoop to the level of negativity and gives those who are looking for you to respond, react, make such petty fucking shit a goddamn big deal? Why make something you know surrounds society, your problem?" That's the million dollar question, peeps. Why?

See, what I do is different. New. Refreshing. Entertaining. That's why I'm still here today stronger than ever. Before I drank the Kool-Aid, negativity was a compliment. It told me, "Man, you're a talented mother fucker. Your ass got a fucking gift I wish I had. I need to do something to stop such awesomeness before you make it spread like wildfire." It was motivation. It made a mother fucker like me smile. I just kept it in my back pocket as motivation and 25 cans of Red Bull to give me a pick-me-up. It was something I NEVER responded to. Truth be told, there really wasn't much hate going around. It came in waves. When it came, I just got better. Funnier. More truthful. But truthful in a sense that it never was directed towards anyone in particular, more like, generally speaking. That's why people love my shit. I say things people are thinking and wish they could say. I guess you can consider this blog a goddamn therapy session. You're welcome.

But I drank the Kool-Aid.

I focused on the shit that didn't matter and ignored what did matter. Who the fuck does that? You know who? People that love to be miserable. I'm not fucking miserable. Fuck all that.

But I drank the Kool-Aid.

I was starting to become miserable. My job is to write shit and make mother fuckers laugh. Tell them the fucked up shit that has happened to me while not giving two fucks about it. My misery should be everyones entertainment. What am I saying...MY misery is my fucking entertainment. Only the fucked up, hilarious shit happens to me (and The RINGER, too).

But I drank the Kool-Aid.

I had to go back to the basics tonight and realize that opinions (a.k.a. hater comments) are just compliments. They are. Trust me...they really are. If someone will take a goddamn second to give you their negative opinion (in your time of success), then it is without a fucking doubt they are complimenting you because they want to feel what you feel. Want to be what you are. Call me crazy but, it's the mother fucking truth. We're all haters in some way, shape or form. We ALL drink that nasty ass Kool-Aid. Some just choose to be addicted to it. While others take the high road and move the fuck on.

Opinions are just compliments.

“The reason we struggle with self-confidence is that we compare everyone’s highlight reel with our behind the scenes.” This describes what I'm not, but at times, can be. As a society, 94.4830% of us will say, "I have all the self-confidence in the fucking world. I aint' no hater." You're a hater. Trust me. We all are at some point in our lifetime. The difference is, when will you stop to realize that you have a highlight reel of your own? No two people live the same lives so why even care (good or bad)? It's this quote that knocked me the fuck back to reality and back to being J-fucking-Wunder: Man of entertainment, advice and all things funny.

Opinions are just compliments. Success isn't just handed to you. Life is a fucking bitch. Haters gonna hate. Players gonna play. Cuntbags are gonna be cunts (I had to throw that in here).

Let's be our own definition of success and realize that the negativity that surrounds you holds you back from being whatever the fuck you want to be and cons you into wanting to live someone else's life.

Don't drink the Kool-Aid. Smile, nod and move the fuck on. Trust me, you'll be better for it.

True story.